Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Grunt-Grunt the pig

I woke up on a comfy seat in Aiden's truck. Beside me there was a bowl of warm milk and beside the warm milk there was a crushed biscuit in another bowl. I loved my warm milk and my crushed biscuit that Aiden gave me. I heard Aiden’s truck stop. Aiden hopped out of his truck. Aiden left his truck door open. An hour later I hopped out. Then BANG!! I heard a gunshot. I thought it was Aiden looking for a bird to shoot. But it wasn’t it was a hunter looking for little pigs just like me. I found Aiden and lay down beside his legs. Aiden heard the gunshot as well. He picked me up and took me to his truck. He said “do not hop out of my truck ok”.

“Oink Oink” I replied. When me and Aiden got to his house. I ran straight inside and sat by the warm fire. The fire was as warm as a boiling hot jug. When Aiden washed all the sticky blood off me. Aiden had tea. Then we went to bed. I fell straight asleep.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Answering your questions. Grunt-Grunt on his own.

Thank you for your comments on Grunt-Grunt on His Own.
What was the monster Grunt-Grunt saw? If you read carefully what the monster looked like to Grunt-Grunt, you might be able to work out what it really was.
Yes, Aiden really did find Grunt-Grunt.
Bear-dog wasn't sure what Grunt-Grunt was for a start! Bear is a hunting dog, but he helps with duck shooting, not pig hunting. I think he thought Grunt-Grunt was a real live stuffed animal perhaps.

Friday, September 10, 2010

South Island, New Zealand. If you can find Motueka on this map then you know where Grunt-Grunt comes from.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Grunt-Grunt liked to sleep cuddled on Aiden's arm when Aiden was lying on the floor watching television. He also thought that it might be nice to try out Bear-dog's basket. Bear-dog wasn't too sure whether he wanted Grunt-Grunt in his basket!

Monday, September 6, 2010

We have been looking for some interesting stories for our class to read. Especially stories that boys will like to read.

Luckily Ms. Bibby loves writing stories and has started this one for us.

Grunt-Grunt the Pig

Chapter one: The adventure begins
You could say that Grunt-Grunt’s adventures started off in a bloody mess.

You see, life was quiet in the bush for Grunt-Grunt and his family; there was nothing much to do except trot along behind his mother as she moved from one foraging place to another, or race around chasing his brothers and sisters. Sometimes they just spent the afternoon sleeping in the sun, a warm pile of piglets.

That is, life was quiet until the day Grunt-Grunt’s adventures started and on that day his world exploded into a squealing, shrieking mess of pigs and dogs and big humans and blood splattering everywhere.

Grunt-Grunt didn’t know what was happening; one minute he was asleep, and the next minute his mother started squealing so loud that all he could think of to do was to run, run as fast as his tiny piglet legs would go. So he ran – straight under one of the fierce pig dogs and into the legs of another one. Thud! He was going so fast that he bounced off the leg and fell over, rolling and rolling, legs up paddling the air one second and legs under him the next; over and over he tumbled, finally coming to a stop against a log. He opened his eyes but everything was going around and around, so he closed them again and tried to stand up legs scrambling in the dirt. He shook his head to stop the spinning and opened his eyes again - and looked straight into the gaping bloody mouth and huge teeth of a pig dog. It looked like it was waiting to grab him and eat him up in one gulp.

It was the scariest thing Grunt-Grunt had ever seen in his whole life!

One look at those teeth and Grunt-Grunt squealed and took off, keeping as close to the side of the log as he could. Lucky for him he did, because when the dog lunged at him to bite him, not only did he get a bit of Grunt-Grunt, he got a bit of the log too.

The dog shook his head from side to side to get the piece of wood out of his mouth shaking poor Grunt-Grunt so his head wobbled back and forth, sswip! sswip! BUT when he opened his mouth to spit out the wood, he was careless and spat Grunt-Grunt out too. Grunt-Grunt went flying, yes flying as only a small piglet could do. He went flying through the air, a squealing, bleeding piglet missile that landed plunk, in the middle of a big patch of ferns!

He lay there not moving, his eyes shut tight. He didn’t know that his side was bleeding where the dog’s teeth had gone into him, or that the hunters had gone further away. He didn’t open his eyes once; he lay very still, hardly breathing. He didn’t see the dogs sniff, sniffing around as they followed the pig hunters out of the bush or the hunter walk past with his dead mother on his back. He lay there quiet and still, too scared to move. He lay there as the day got darker and darker. He didn’t see the stars or the moon or the possum that walked by in the middle of the night. He lay there all night, shivering as it got colder and colder. He didn’t see the bloody mess that the hunters left all around the clearing where he had been sleeping in a warm piglet pile before the hunters came.

Grunt-Grunt lay there all night, his eyes shut tight, too scared to move.

What do you think of the story so far? What do you think might happen next?